Winter Moonrise
by
Jo Leak
Email: joandjo@ntlworld.com
This blue heaven
with its ghost clouds
in the shape of angel wings
provokes a subtle sadness,
an indefinable stab
of quiet pain
that aches like an old clock ticking.
In these short days
with moonrise at four o'clock,
best not to let time play its tricks,
best to try to stay young,
defiant of the relentless
march of days
and the certain knowledge
that each one that passes
can never be replayed.
